Over a single summer holiday, a woman, her husband, and a stranger form an uneasy triangle of intimacy in this novel of art, loss, and beauty from the celebrated author of Indelicacy.

A writer and her husband are spending the summer in an unnamed town. They pass their days adrift in a lush and strange place, where shops are small and intimate, the water is vivid and blue, and the streets are often empty. One afternoon, the woman sees another woman in the town square, her young son in tow. The stranger’s face has an uncanny familiarity, making a small fissure in the placid surface of the season. Their uneasy entanglement will bring the writer to face what she’s run from, the grief at once so private and collective, so intimate and ambient that it’s become a kind of company.

Compressed, disquieting, and profoundly metaphysical, Amina Cain's My New Face unfurls over the course of a single sweltering summer to tell a story of making art and taking care in times of crisis. It is a powerful thoroughly modern fable about the limits of our knowledge, and about love, mystery, and the way each requires the other.